Then later after his shower he walked out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist and my heart went boom (and then poof squish from the explosion.)

I sat on my bed with Ivy between my crossed-legs and I combed out her wet hair. I can't even begin to tell you what a treasure it is to sit and comb my daughter's hair, straight down her back and then it curls up again. It's such a small thing, but not. Not at all. Some days it's everything.

She is such the only girl among men. I keep meaning to mention how she calls her swimsuit a Trunk.

One night before school started up Jeff told Gray he'd be the man of the house again, and should help keep watch for Mommy. Later he told me he really wished we had a pet buffalo to take care of us, in case some bad guys came in our house, 'cause he's not very big, but a buffalo is.

Combing my girls hair after a shower is something I never tire of. Now the dictating what I will do with said hair and the requests to put rollers in when it is well past bedtime is something that wears on me lots.